


with a hint of sin

by sameboots



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, First Time, Hand Jobs, I swear, Multi, Soft threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, but it's so soft, hints of anal sex, stable triad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-12-27 00:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sameboots/pseuds/sameboots
Summary: Jaime, Addam, and Brienne north of The Wall, sharing a tent and body heat.--"Mmm." Addam loosens his tight hold on her to slide his hand further up, cupping the taut skin of her abdomen. "Shall I tell you how I see you?"Brienne flinches. Surely, she didn't miss anything. To catalog all of her faults would take hours."I'll take your silence as permission," Addam says. "I think you're magnificently strong, a better fighter than nearly every man I've sparred with or fought against on a battlefield. You bear the scars of a knight with the compassion of a maiden. You're courageous, fearless in the face of any enemy." As he continues to speak, his hand moves over the expanse of her large body, palming her sides and arms, her thighs and the slight indent of her thick waist. "I won't tell you you're pretty, or beautiful. I'll not lie to you. You're glorious, spectacular, and if given leave, I would gladly show you how soft and sweet you are where it counts."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written at the behest of ddagent and Roccolinde. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, only read over a couple of times by mine own eyes. Expect some errors. 
> 
> Any complaints about the ship can be directed toward either of the above-mentioned requestors.

Beyond the Wall the air is so frigid, so bitingly cold, that no one blinks an eye when Brienne starts sharing Jaime and Addam's tent. There are no other women fighters for her to bed down with, and no one begrudges her the warmth of other bodies. Likely, they assume that it's too cold for anyone to expose enough of their bodies to compromise her virtue, for what it's worth now. 

If she's known as the Kingslayer's Whore still, there are larger concerns for the whole of Westeros. With the war for the Iron Throne over, the attention of everyone has shifted to the mysterious threat pushing South. Jaime insists she share their tent, of course he does. They are both shorter than she is, and less bulky besides, but the promise of any amount of shared heat is enough for Brienne to disregard any lingering concerns of propriety, few though they were.

Brienne's been in war camps for years now, so when she awakens to a hard object pressing into her arse, she doesn't question for a moment what it is. Addam is spooned around her back, his face tucked close to her neck, breath damp and warm against her skin. Just knowing what it is doesn't stop a queer feeling settling low in her stomach, nor the desire to squirm against it. 

She holds herself as still as possible for what feels like hours, trying to control her breathing and the urge to rock against Addam or pull Jaime in closer where he's curled with his back against her front. Finally, Addam stirs, his arm around her waist yanking her back as he rocks the rigid line of his cock against her. Brienne can't prevent the gasp, stiffening in his arms. 

Jaime squirms in her arms, snuggling back into her embrace, sighing as if he's pulled heavy furs over his chilled body.

Brienne can tell the moment Addam is truly aware of his surroundings. He tenses before he relaxes his hold on her. He shifts his hips away and mumbles, "Sorry," into her shoulder.

She sets her hand over his arm when he starts to pull away, letting cold air seep between their sleep-warm bodies. "It's okay," she says quietly, trying not to wake Jaime. They all need as much rest as they can get. "I know it's not about me."

Addam goes still behind her as if frozen in place. His hand shifts until he's gripping her hip. "I don't think you do know," he says finally, fingertips pressing harder into the thick muscle. He molds himself to her once more, his cock still hard against her. His whiskers scrape her when he leans in to murmur against her ear, "Why would you think it's not about you?"

"It's--it's natural," Brienne stammers. "All men--"

"Oh, you've bedded down with many men?" Addam asks. She can hear the smile in his tone. "It's true, men frequently awaken hard. But how can you be so sure it has nothing to do with you?"

"We're comrades, Ser Addam--"

Addam emits a sharp laugh. "Ser again, is it?"

Brienne flushes hotly. "I simply know--I know that--I'm aware of how I am, _Addam_."

"And how are you?" It's miserable, humiliating. It's bad enough being Brienne, but having to detail out her many faults to someone she respects--someone she admires--it's nearly unbearable. "How are you, _Brienne_?"

Maybe it's the soothing massage of his grip, or perhaps it's like lancing an infection. It's a blinding hurt at first, but it's followed by something that merely aches.

"I am homely," she begins quietly. "I have not a woman's figure. I am taller than either you or Jaime. I'm broader across the shoulders than Jaime. I am scarred and awkward, ugly even for a man with my ruined cheek." 

"Mmm." Addam loosens his tight hold on her to slide his hand further up, cupping the taut skin of her abdomen. "Shall I tell you how I see you?"

Brienne flinches. Surely, she didn't miss anything. Perhaps he means to point out her callused, large hands, or her feet that would look comical if forced into delicate slippers. Maybe her flat chest and thick waist in particular, instead of allowing her the vagueness of simply unfeminine. To catalogue all of her faults would take hours. 

"I'll take your silence as permission," Addam says. "I think you're magnificently strong, a better fighter than nearly every man I've sparred with or fought against on a battlefield. You bear the scars of a knight with the compassion of a maiden. You're courageous, fearless in the face of any enemy." As he continues to speak, his hand moves over the expanse of her large body, palming her sides and arms, her thighs and the slight indent of her thick waist. "I won't tell you you're pretty, or beautiful. I'll not lie to you. You're glorious, spectacular, and if given leave, I would gladly show you how soft and sweet you are where it counts." As he finishes talking, his fingertips play at the waist of her soft wool trousers. 

Brienne pauses and then, in an act of bravery that makes her feel shaken to her already trembling core, she tilts her hips in invitation. Addam slowly pushes her tunic up until he can slowly slip his hand into her smallclothes. The half-gasp, half-whimper that leaves her mouth must awaken Jaime. He turns in her arms until he's facing her. She stares into his sleepy green eyes as Addam's fingers brush through the thatch of curls between her legs. 

Jaime looks confused for only a moment before his eyes sharpen with awareness.

"I thought we agreed, Addam," he rumbles, voice husky with sleep.

"Wha-" but Brienne's question is cut off when Addam's fingertips slide through the wet heat of her cunt, his fingers finding a spot that makes her whole body tense. Jaime's hand strokes her arm as if soothing a scared animal, gentling her with his touch. 

"I know I should be sorry," Addam says, clearly to Jaime. "But you'll excuse me that I'm not. If we all want--"

"All?" Brienne manages to ask breathlessly. 

Jaime's hand is at her face now, his knuckles stroking along her scarred, twisted cheek. "Do you want us, Brienne?" His thumb pulls at her chapped lower lip. "It's your decision. We will all forget this morning if you say the words."

"I-I-" Brienne can't even _think_, let alone make sense of the vagaries of Jaime's behavior. 

The hand between her thighs halts its movements. She whimpers in protest, writhing against it. 

"Brienne," Jaime's voice calls to her, waiting until she opens her eyes. His face is tense, his mouth a hard line, eyes glinting. "You must say what it is you want. Addam or myself, both of us or neither of us. If you stop, we stop. Denial isn't a new experience for either of us." 

Brienne takes a moment, heart thundering in her ears, eyes trained on the face of a man she holds so dear sometimes it feels like it fills her up to a breaking point, and between her thighs, the callused hand of a man she has grown to respect as much as any and--and desire. Yes, desire. 

"I want you both," she manages to whispers. 

The answering, rumbling groans from both men set her nerve-endings alight. She has barely a moment to savor it before Jaime's hand cups around the back of her neck to pull her into a brutal kiss. His mouth takes her, tongue sliding along hers, tasting before he draws her lip between his teeth, nipping it. At the same moment, Addam's fingers begin moving between her legs again, stroking the heated flesh until he finds the wet, quivering entrance of her body. 

She can't help but tense at the pressure of his fingers, the first tentative suggestion of what's to come, the hint of penetration. He doesn't breach her yet, dragging the wetness to that place at the very top of her cunt that makes her whole being squirm as if her skin is too small to contain the pleasure. She bucks against his circling touch, no longer caring what she sounds or looks like, her panting cries of pleasure swallowed by Jaime's mouth as he continues to kiss her deeply. 

Jaime takes her hand and places it on his straining cock. His hand doesn't leave hers as he ends the kiss to ask, "Can I show you how to touch me?"

She nods vigorously, panting out a _yes_. 

He lets go of her and moves away far enough to shove his breeches and smallclothes past his cock. Then his hand is pulling hers to him and wrapping it around his hard, hot flesh. 

It all seems to meld together after that point. Addam's hand rubbing circles against her wet, tingling flesh; Jaime guiding her hand up and down his rigid cock as he kisses her firmly, desperately; she rolls her hips with Addam's sharp thrusts of his cock against her arse. 

When she comes, it's like a shock of lightning. She's come at her own fingers before, of course, but it's nothing to the sensation that courses through her as she is sandwiched between two men who grunt and groan along with her. Jaime thrusts frantically into her grip until he groans like a man dying, and she feels his come smearing the front of his breeches and over her fingers. 

It startles her when Jaime reaches around her hip, slipping his hand between her arse and Addam's cock, fumbling with Addam's breeches until he can get his hand inside and stroke Addam to his own climax.

Their heavy breathing calms in fits and starts together, their bodies a tangle of sweaty, slack limbs. The smell of sex permeates their small tent, smothering them in a warm humidity at odds with the reality outside of the tent. They tangle themselves further, ignoring for a moment longer the need to clean, the tacky fluids and messy smallclothes. Jaime's head is tucked under her chin, his leg sandwiched between hers. Addam's forehead is pressed against the nape of her neck, breathing hard, his leg flung over hers. 

She feels almost small for the first time in her life, protected in a way she never allows herself to crave. 

It's the safest Brienne's ever felt. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second piece of the universe set-up in chapter 1.

“I know it hurts,” Addam apologizes, holding the cloth against the gash across Brienne’s upper arm. 

“It’s fine,” she grumbles through gritted teeth.

It does hurt. Of course it hurts. It’s a deep gouge that will require suturing and keeping her arm bound tight for at least a fortnight. But she wonders if he would give Jaime the same concern, the same gentle touch and soothing voice. 

As if summoned by her thoughts alone, Jaime bursts through the flap of their tent, face screwed up in concern.

“For Seven’s sake,” Brienne groans. “It’s a flesh wound.” Jaime only scowls deeper. He walks to where Addam is trying to stanch the flow of blood. “You two are like mother hens. I’m a soldier, am I not? I’m not some delicate maiden that needs to have the both of you puttering around me like I’m going to break at the first wound. Besides, the other man made it out worse than I, what with his head no longer being connected to his shoulders.”

She’s babbling, she knows, but it does really hurt and Addam’s continued pressure hurts worse with every minute as the heat of battle slowly dies. 

“Let me see,” Jaime tells Addam, ignoring Brienne’s rant entirely. Addam pulls away the makeshift bandage and Jaime sucks a breath through his teeth. “Should you do it or should I?”

“Her call.”

“The ‘her’ in question would appreciate it if you two would stop talking as if I’m not here.” She tries to yank her arm out of Addam’s grip and cries out at the shooting pain that ripples through her entire body. She feels faint for a moment, but thanks to the gods, she remains conscious. “Jaime can do it. His stitches are neater." 

She doesn’t even have to look to know he’s giving Addam the smug look. Addam moves around so he’s sitting in front of her, staring at her with concern. 

"If you try to hold my hand, I swear upon all of the gods that I will gut you.”

Addam holds up his hands in surrender. She tries to ignore Jaime moving around to her side. She can hear him threading the needle and pouring water into a bowl to mop away the blood as he works. Finally, he sits next to her and she can’t help but brace herself for what’s to come. 

“Do you need something to bite?” he asks. 

“No,” she says, determined to prove something to herself and her comrades. 

“There’s no shame in–” Addam begins.

“I said no,” Brienne interrupts him. 

At the first push of the needle through the flesh of her arm, she regrets her decision immediately. She gouges her thighs with her blunt fingernails, closing her eyes and breathing deeply in hopes of avoiding spilling the little content of her stomach onto Addam’s feet. 

“Shall I distract you?” Addam offers. 

Brienne nods her head vigorously. “Please,” she manages to just grit out, her breath coming in shallow pants. 

“Would you prefer a tale from my boyhood or, perhaps, a suggestion of how Jaime and I might take your mind off of the pain when his work is finished?”

She manages to hold up two fingers. It’s doubtful that a story of a well-to-do young squire would do much more than stir up the bitterness of all she had to overcome simply to be awarded the same opportunities. 

“Hmm,” Addam hums. “You will need a bath, of course. I believe we all will.” He reaches out and sets his warm hand against the one of hers still gripping her thigh tightly. “We’ll have to be careful of your arm, but I think between the both of us, we’ll manage. With your arm bandaged tightly, it would be smarter if one of us were to hold you while the other bathed you. Or perhaps one of us could bath you from your waist to your toes, and the other could wash you from the waist up.”

Brienne nods, the warmth of Addam’s voice and the firm pressure of his hand over hers lulling her ever so slightly against the near-unbearable pain of Jaime’s careful, but excruciatingly slow stitches.

“Would it be a welcome distraction if we were to put our mouths on you?” Addam asks, leaning close enough that he can murmur it against her ear, his lips brushing the shell, shocking counterpoint to the burning in her arm. She whimpers. “We could take turns until you’re limp with pleasure, unable to remember the pain you’re in currently. You know how we love the taste of you." 

"Yes,” she groans. 

“Or maybe you would prefer to watch Jaime and me together?” Addam captures her earlobe between his lips, biting it gently. “Our hands or our mouths? Or we could do it all until you cannot help but sleep peacefully. Me and Jaime pleasuring each other so we’re sure you’re hot and wet and ready for our lips, our fingers, our teeth.”

Addam kisses her along the jaw, scraping her skin with his teeth and beard. 

“You could stroke one of us. It is your left arm that’s injured, and as I remember it, your right hand is more than skilled enough to work our cocks to release.” She bites her bottom lip at the thought of her hand gripping the hard length of their cocks, the sounds of pleasure she knows they make. 

She wants it all. She wants them in every way possible. She wants to be sandwiched between them. Jaime’s cock against her belly and Addam’s against her arse, or perhaps the other way round, it hardly matters. They kiss differently, but each is just as pleasurable. Addam kisses her tenderly, like she’s a maiden that must be coaxed and led to their mutual destination. Jaime kisses her raw and heated, biting at her lips until they’re even larger and redder, until she’s worried they’re bruised from his attention.

Addam’s hand is cupped around her neck and she leans into the touch, letting her mind drift away into a fantasy of them sweaty and tangled together on their bedrolls. When Jaime finally ties off the last of the knots and wraps the spare cloth around her arm, he pushes away Addam’s hand and draws Brienne toward him for a gentle kiss and conveys an apology he need not make. Then it’s Addam brushing Jaime aside and pulling her to him for a kiss that’s a promise of more to come, his lips pressing hers apart so that he can run his tongue along hers with a rumbling groan. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shhhh. In which Addam and Jaime demonstrate the art of the blowjob for Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I can't stop writing this weekend. Especially this particular 'verse. I think it's important to understand these are all interconnected one-shots that exist in the same time period, but aren't necessarily meant to convey an actual plotted story. 
> 
> Still unbeta'd, still subject to the expected errors of any comment-fic/tumblr-fic.
> 
> If you want to see me lose control of my life re: this OT3, follow me [@agirlnamedkeith](http://agirlnamedkeith.tumblr.com)

"Have you ever…?" 

Jaime arches an eyebrow. She gestures helplessly. She has no idea how she can still manage to blush so brightly after weeks of learning their bodies and her own beneath their hands. "Have I ever what?"

"Have you ever--" she wishes Jaime would save her, or that Addam was nearby, for surely he would. "Have you ever _pleasured_ each other?" 

Jaime smiles softly. "You've seen us do as much."

"Oh," she says. Of course, she has. They will stroke one another, sometimes rut against each other. They even kiss sometimes, over her shoulder while they enclose her from both sides. "Of course," she mumbles. 

But there are things she _hasn't_ witnessed yet, things she sometimes thinks of as she climaxes. 

"Do you use your mouths?" she asks so abruptly that Jaime's head snaps up from where he's concentrated on his meal. "On each other the--the way you do on me."

"Are you asking if we suck each other's cocks?" Jaime asks her bluntly, clearly reveling in how hot her cheeks burn when he states things so baldly. Brienne can't answer, nodding her head instead. "We have."

The image her mind supplies settles hot and heavy low in her stomach.

"Would you--" Brienne begins before she even realizes she's going to speak. 

Jaime's expression shifts then, into something leonine and dangerous. "You know, Brienne." He leans toward her just a fraction. "All you need do is ask."

"Would you show me?" she says breathlessly. "I want to know how--how to pleasure you with my mouth. Both of you." 

A low rumbling sound growls out of Jaime's chest. He sets his stew on the ground and then jerks her to him with a hand around her arm, claiming her mouth in a plundering kiss.

"When Addam comes back," he says against her lips, nipping her bottom one. "We'll show you whatever you want."

\--

Addam enters the tent to Jaime and Brienne wrapped around one another on top of the bedrolls. They're still fully clothed, but judging by the way he ruts against her hip, it's a tenuous thing. He clears his throat and two flushed, swollen-lipped face turn to him. Brienne's teeth draw her bottom lip into her mouth, while Jaime's flash in a grin full of promise. Gods save him from these two. 

"Brienne has a request for us," Jaime says, voice as playful as when they were boys up to some mischief. He palms her taut ass with his hand, squeezing it before he says, "Don't you?"

Brienne gnaws at her lip before saying, "I want you and Jaime to show me how--how you like to be pleasured...with your mouths." 

The blood rushes to Addam's cock. 

He says nothing, simply lifts an eyebrow at Jaime. He disentangles himself from Brienne, slinking his way to Addam. Their bodies all but meld together as they kiss. Jaime's mouth is near as familiar to Addam's as his own. He has known Jaime throughout their whole lives. He remembers the first tentative curious brush of their mouths as young boys, the both of them wondering if it felt any different to a kiss from a girl. 

He remembers the first time they touched each other's cocks, not long after they learned the joy of their _own_ hands; the first time they shucked their breeches and rutted against one another desperately; the first time Jaime knelt before him and took Addam's cock in his mouth; the first time Addam did the same. 

The feel of Jaime's skin has changed, from the smooth softness of boyhood to the sharp sting of a man's beard, but he's the same somehow; familiar and welcome no matter how long they're separated. 

Jaime's hand reaches between them to loosen the ties of Addam's breaches, smirking against his mouth at the feel of his already rigid cock. He sinks to his knees, his green eyes trained on Addam's face as he takes exposes Addam on his way to the ground. Jaime nuzzles against him, brushing Addam's sensitive flesh with his beard, all but begging for Addam to fist his hair. 

Jaime licks Addam, a long swipe of his tongue from the base of Addam's cock to the tip, wrapping his lips around the head and taking Addam as far in as he can, wrapping his callused palm against the length he can't take in.

Addam places a hand against Jaime's cheek, thumbing at the corner of Jaime's mouth where it stretches around him. He sighs in pleasure as Jaime continues to bob his head up and down, his hand moving in tandem, slowly taking Addam even further in, licking the first drops of precome from the head. 

He finally looks at Brienne to find her wide-eyed and spread-legged on the pallets. Her chest rises and falls almost as heavily as Addam's own. He can smell her arousal filling the small, enclosed area. She licks her lips when she notices that he's staring at her. There's a recognizable hunger in her gaze. 

"Touch yourself," Addam commands her in a choked voice. 

Brienne blinks, looking startled for only a moment before her fingers fumble to untie her laces and push her breeches and smallclothes down her legs. Her cunt is flushed and wet, glistening in the lamplight. He barely as a moment to appreciate the sight before her hand cups herself, dipping her fingers into her opening before sliding them in a firm stroke to her clit. She touches herself in tight circles, gasping at the feeling as she continues to watch Jaime and Addam move together.

The tent is filled with the wet sounds of pleasure. Jaime lapping at Addam's cock, Brienne fucking herself and pressing her palm against her aching clit. Jaime knows him almost as well as he knows himself, so he knows the exact moment to shift his hand to Addam's balls, rolling them between his fingertips.

Addam comes with a guttural, almost animal grunt. Jaime spits his seed onto the ground before smirking at Addam with just a drop still clinging to the corner of his mouth. He wipes it away with a swipe of his tongue. Brienne nearly squeaks at that and they turn as one to watch her come, pressing two fingers into herself and writhing against her own palm. 

Addam draws Jaime to his feet and strokes him to completion, though it only takes a few firm pulls of his hand. Jaime kisses him firmly once more, before walking away, slightly unsteady to grab the pitcher of still warm water that was boiled over the campfire. 

He cleans himself of his spend first, and then Addam, before handing a fresh cloth to Addam and nodding toward where Brienne lies back in satiation, staring at them both in wonder. Addam kneels next to her and gently cleans her thighs and cunt of her arousal. She whimpers slightly when he swipes the rough linen over her clit. 

Her eyes flutter open and catch his, bottomless blue, pupils like spilled ink. He leans down to kiss her, reminding her she's still a part of them, of this, no matter if they touch her during the act. She curls her hand into his hair and holds him close, holds him with a tenderness that makes him ache.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For angel_deux and ddagent and whomever seemed to be convinced I should upgrade this to include anal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
1) This takes place later after Brienne has already lost her "virginity" (i.e. penetrative vaginal sex);  
2) This was intended to be true pegging, but then it turned into this instead, so like...sorry? they'll find a dildo eventually, I think.  
3) It's been a while since I wrote anal. Have fun with this one.

The idea takes root the first time Brienne watches Addam take Jaime into his mouth. There’s a familiarity in their shared movements that makes Brienne ache for that sort of history. She and Jaime have a history, of course, but not one that bears the same fruit of tender heat and comfort with any manner of intimacy.

Addam bears Jaime onto his back, settling between Jaime’s thighs and smirking wickedly as his mouth closes around the head of Jaime’s cock. Jaime sighs happily, winds his fingers through Addam’s hair and lets his head fall back, throat bared, body splayed and vulnerable to anything that comes at him. 

It’s fascinating watching the two of them together. 

They both know how to take one another apart as skillfully as they both wield a blade; in Jaime’s case, as skillfully as before he lost his hand. They seem to take a fiendish joy in dragging the other close to the precipice before doing something, or ceasing to do something, that lets them fall away again. 

“Seven hells, Addam,” Jaime groans, every muscle in his body clenching as he yanks at Addam’s hair. “Stop torturing me.”

Addam’s eyes meet Brienne’s where she sits just beyond Jaime’s head. He holds her gaze as he pulls away just long enough to wet his own finger in his mouth (for Jaime to growl dangerously) before taking Jaime as far into his mouth as possible. Brienne can’t see exactly what Addam does next, but she can surmise well enough from the movements and from the way Jaime’s entire torso lifts from the bedroll with a soul-shaking cry of pleasure.

Addam lets Jaime spill in his mouth, swallowing Jaime’s spend before gentling Jaime through his climax with soft kisses on his belly and thighs as he shakes through the release.

\--

She finally works up the nerve to ask Addam about it when Jaime has wandered off, either to bathe or take care of other bodily needs. 

“Do men find it--” she wavers, unsure how to phrase it, and blushes when Addam lifts an already-amused eyebrow. “When you were pleasuring Jaime, you used your fingers as well, didn’t you?”

“Aye,” he says, clearly trying to suppress a smile. 

“And men _enjoy_ that?” 

“Didn’t it appear as if Jaime enjoyed it?” 

Brienne swallows. “It’s only that,” she tries to explain, tries not to squirm, “in the camps, when men were...there were times when…” 

Addam takes mercy on her, and she thinks all seven gods that one of the men in her life has a kind soul on occasion. 

“It can be very pleasant or very _un_pleasant,” Addam says calmly. “If the man doesn’t want that sort of pleasure, it can hurt, the same as it does for a woman that doesn’t want to be taken. In the same respect, if the man isn’t prepared properly, it will hurt even if he does wish it.” 

Her cheeks burn as she asks, “Do you or Jaime ever use your--your cocks?”

“Yes,” Addam says plainly. 

“And you enjoy it?”

“We’d hardly allow it if we didn’t.” Addam smiles, a conspiratorial sort of grin. “There are plenty of other things we enjoy well enough without resorting to demanding things that don’t bring everyone enjoyment.”

She stares at him for a long moment before whispering, “Will you show me?” She can feel her heartbeat in her tongue, it seems. “I would like to learn how to do it properly.”

\--

Jaime comes back to find her and Addam with their heads tucked together. There’s no trace of jealousy, a fact that still startles her at first. Instead, there’s that familiar amusement and heat and care etched into every line of his face. She and Addam rise to greet him. Jaime wastes no time in drawing her to him and kissing her heavily. 

Addam is at the back of her, cock already half-hard against her arse, arms around her so that he can touch Jaime’s flank as Jaime tastes the inside of her mouth. 

Jaime’s hand works at the laces of her breeches while she undoes his. He _growls_ when she wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him until he mindlessly thrusts into her grip.

Addam slides one of his hands beneath her smallclothes, pressing his fingers into her wet heat, circling over that spot that makes her whole body tighten and her brain feels like it’s been set alight. 

“Tell him what you want,” Addam whispers against the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine. 

“I don’t know how to--”

“What would you say if he were doing it to you?” 

Her hand stills on Jaime’s cock and he lifts his head from her shoulder to stare at her, hazy-eyed and curious. 

“I want to--to fuck you,” Brienne murmurs.

Jaime’s eyes widen and Addam lets out an amused puff of air. Whether it’s with her stuttered declaration or Jaime’s reaction, she doesn’t know and doesn’t really care. It’s as if Jaime is looking for an answer on her face, whatever the question, he must find it because he kisses her searingly and says, “Yes, _yes_,” against her lips. 

It’s familiar enough by now to strip off and find their ways onto a pile of bedrolls together. Their limbs slot together with ease now, no longer a motley tangle of sharp elbows and knocking knees. 

Somehow, Addam maneuvers them all so that he’s cradling her from behind while they both kneel between Jaime’s splayed legs, his hips resting on a rolled and folded cloak. Jaime’s cock is flushed and hard, lying against his belly; Addam’s is pressed against the small of Brienne’s back, his fingers still caressing Brienne between her own legs. Addam takes Brienne’s hand with the one not stroking her and guides her massage Jaime’s thigh gently, murmuring in her ear about the benefits of patience. 

Jaime writhes beneath their hands and when Addam finally asks, “Are you ready?”

Jaime grits his teeth and almost angrily says, “Fuck, yes.”

Addam shifts away far enough to grab the small wineskin of oil. He wets his own fingers with it and then hers. When he begins to guide her hand to touch Jaime, she hesitates. “Don’t you want to show me first?”

“You’ll understand soon enough,” he says, still guiding her hand forward. “You don’t learn how to shoot an arrow or handle a sword by watching. This is no different.” Then, as if amusing himself, he snorts and says, “But with a good deal less blood involved, one hopes.”

“Addam,” Jaime groans, not in pleasure, in aggravation. 

Addam laughs near noiselessly, his chest rumbling against Brienne’s back. Addam finally brings their fingers together to press against Jaime’s ass. He tenses reflexively, and Brienne thinks to draw her hand back, but Addam steadies her, neither pushing harder or pulling away. 

“Stroke his cock,” Addam murmurs. 

It only takes a couple of strokes of her hand before she can feel him relax against her fingers. Addam manipulates her hand until he can push just one of her fingertips into Jaime. He groans, not quite a sound of pleasure, nor of pain, but he shifts toward her and not away. 

Jaime is hot and achingly, suffocatingly tight around her. 

“In and out, gently,” Addam continues to instruct her quietly. “Remember how softly we treated you at first. Treat Jaime just as kindly.” 

It happens in fits and starts. Gradually, Jaime relaxes to the intrusion of her finger, his moans flowing from uncertainty into the kind of pure pleasure that seems to be directly connected to her cunt. After an age, Jaime writhes against her and grits out, “More.” 

Brienne doesn’t need Addam’s direction this time, she adds another finger. Still, Addam tells her how to curl her fingers just so, and how to feel for that spot that will--

And then Jaime’s entire chest lifts off the blanket, a sound tearing from his chest that startles Brienne for a moment before she recognizes it as that incandescent pleasure right before climax. Jaime is all but incoherent, shifting down onto her fingers and trying to thrust into her grip all at once. Brienne has almost no mind for Addam behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his hard cock still nestled snug against her lower back, seemingly content for now to observe and guide the two of them.

When Jaime comes soon after, spilling over her hand and his own stomach, he tightens around her fingers still inside of him with the sort of strangling force that makes her, for the first time, vaguely regretful she’ll never know what it feels like to have that sort of pressure around a cock. He whimpers at the loss of her when she pulls her hand away. 

Addam draws Brienne with him so that they’re no longer resting their weight on their heels. Jaime’s blissed-out expression sharpens when Addam moves his fingers to her opening and then to her clit and back again until her body tightens with a sort of tension that feels like it might shatter her. 

“May I?” Addam asks, voice husky and rasping and a tinge desperate. Jaime’s eyes cut to hers, and for a moment she doesn’t know who he’s asking, or if it’s both of them, and either way the answer is always yes.

Addam enters her, the length of his cock a welcome, filling pressure. It’s far from the first time, and yet, it’s always somehow consuming and raw and fresh. She reaches behind herself to wrap a hand around the back of his head. Jaime takes her other hand, holding it tightly. She opens her eyes to watch Jaime’s face as Addam moves within her, her own hips rolling to meet his. 

She hopes she never gets used to the level of warmth and love she feels wrapped in. It always seems far away when they step outside the tent, as if the Brienne that smells of sex and sweat, tender and sore in intimate places only the two men with her know of, is an entirely different person. But then she’s held by them, tangled up in every way people can be, and it’s the only thing in the world that makes sense. 

Brienne’s climax is a rolling wave, pulling her under and filling her with that lovely certainty of where she belongs. Addam pulls away to come against the skin of her hip and thigh before tugging her to lie down, sandwiched between him and Jaime. 

She knows one of them should move for the bucket of water and a spare muslin, but she can’t seem to convince her limbs to move, and neither of the men seems to have a mind to do so themselves, so she lets the security of their bodies and her own exhaustion to carry her to sleep. 


End file.
